


Newcomers

by purglepurglepurgle



Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Politics, Worldbuilding, Wutai, dark humour, gaudy miscellany, general bitterness, gloom all round, sulking via fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 20:53:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20895947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purglepurglepurgle/pseuds/purglepurglepurgle
Summary: They have to welcome the new rulers, but they don't have towelcomethem.





	Newcomers

They're at Black Lake (lit. "Lake that befriends the verdant green buds winking open in the dawnlight'-- but Rufus Shinra's correspondence uses the quick translation. Screw him. Yuffie ignores his preference and uses the longer phrase every chance she gets, even if it sounds silly, just to waste more of his time. She has to stick with the translation because she can't remember the untranslated version, plus the vowels are hard anyway; it's some obscure local dialect. Wutai may boast hundreds of languages, but Yuffie is sticking to one, dammit.).

Yuffie and Godo have arrived early, to install themselves in the palace. She dodges out of the way as the servants rush around them. Yuffie feels conspicuous in her ceremonial silk. It has _skirts_. She wishes she could just melt into the walls, or better yet, chuck a smoke grenade and disappear into the mist before anyone realises what's happening. But she doesn't have a choice. She _has_ to be here. They _couldn't _receive Rufus in the capital-- it would have disgraced Da Chao, not to mention Leviathan-- so they've picked somewhere in the backwoods that's just fancy enough that it satisfies the dictates of the etiquette, while still firmly communicating disdain.

Although Black Lake is a run-down village, these days, with a population of a few thousand, it was once an independent territory, ruled by some minor rivals. It's in the middle of nowhere and it's literally _the_ most boring place in the world, but it's got a local palace, and a cluster of grand estates, if you like that sort of thing. Yuffie's never been the sort to traipse around stately homes for fun. It's the same dull narrative they have in the capital-- the big manors and fields used to house the local Families-- the artisans, the engineers, the merchants; each noble line had its trade. Yuffie can't get excited about it; not like there's a Family in charge of giving out free materia. But even the crappiest parts of her land are a billion times nicer than Midgar. Not surprising Rufus wants to visit and throw his weight around.

Yuffie is ushered to a side room, and a girl applies her makeup with a long brush. The lip paint tastes nearly as gross as it looks. Way un-ninja-y. But at least it's not poison. She and Godo have brought their own servants with them; they're using a few locals for this and that, but they're trying to avoid it where possible. Not that the locals are clamouring to help. Wutai, she knows from Chekhov's boring lectures, annexed Black Lake long ago, during the Glorious Expansion. The people here were badtempered enough to resist, so the Kisaragis had to execute their chief Family, and any nobles that didn't flee are long-dead. After the war, Godo gifted their estates to his most decorated generals-- it's good land, and also, it's useful to have the town bounded by men and women who can still fight.

This has not gone down well.

Yuffie hates this part of her country. When she and her father arrived that morning, it was to an angry, shouting mob. One dude _spat_ at her. He missed, at least, and her guards whacked him pretty hard with a stick, but yuuuuck. The people here all resent her because of old shit from some hundred years before she was even born. A whole bunch of them _still_ refuse to accept that they're Wutaian these days; some even sided with Shinra in the war. Dumbasses. Her dad taught them a lesson, so they haven't done anything since, but the whole place has a bad atmosphere. And it's a painful reminder of everything her people have lost. Wutai could easily absorb a settlement like Black Lake when they were growing and thriving. They could never do it today.

Yeah, she'd much rather be anywhere else. But there isn't anywhere. The grand palace at Mountain Peak is gone, levelled by the Shinra in the first weeks of the war. 3000 years of history, blasted into nothingness. The 50ft Snakes were toppled. And the towers in the Woodlands, once the envy of every other kingdom in the world, are now less than skeletons. Wutai's own soldiers had to strip them for raw materials. The wooden, carved doors-- 6th century-- were burned as fuel.

_ And we still lost..._

Yuffie returns to the main hall. Her heart hurts. Black Lake's palace is shabbier than the one in the capital-- no gold, and there are some decorative panels missing from the walls, weird scuff marks on the ground, and not much in the way of finery in general-- but there _are_ walls, at least. Plus there's the shiny, newer part, where Godo has built on a kitchen. They don't intend to make much use of it today, but maybe they can have a good feast at some point in the future. Though Yuffie hopes she won't have to come back. She looks up-- the ceiling is painted, but someone's scratched it up so that she can't see the design. Grimness.

A maid almost bumps into her; Yuffie skulks over to the wall. A small girl stokes the fire, arms black with soot. Yuffie's never seen her before, and sure enough, when the girl spots Yuffie, she scowls ferociously. Yuffie scowls back and the girl runs away. That just makes Yuffie feel worse. She wishes she were back in the capital, now. Fewer glares. Then she hears the sound of a helicopter outside. At least there's nothing to lose with the people here. At home, she'd be embarrassed to be seen in Rufus' company. Here, who cares? Yeah, it still sucks that she has to meet with him, but at least she won't be _seen_.

One of the servants signals; Yuffie and Godo take their places at the palace table, settling Godo at the head. This is the main reason they've arrived early. Otherwise Rufus might try to take the top seat.

There's no getting around it: they have to _receive_ him, and let him stay-- but they're damned if he's staying in the palace. No, they must show him the bare minimum of decorum, but they're still Kisaragis and they still represent the heart of Wutai. He can stay in one of the minor noble houses. General Inoue has died recently, an old bachelor to the end, so they'll dump the President on the now-empty Artisan Estate.

'President'. Ugh. Wutai does not have 'presidents'.

They haven't got him the customary gift, either. If he wants a ceremonial woodblock, he can buy it.

*

"Nice place you've got here." Rufus leans back in the carved chair, stroking the hardwood armrest. Beside him, in silence, sits his traitor bodyguard. She can never remember his name, and it's not worth remembering. The one with the weird forehead-dot. She thought it was an accessory or something, but now she's up close, it looks more like a tattoo. Ew. Probably a status symbol among the Midgar no-names; they're all about buying flashy crap over there. They have to be; what else have they got? No, no matter how much Shinra pays him to wear the suit, he'll never be able to buy culture.

"I'll keep it brief," says the stupid blond prick, now. "You'll be pleased to hear I'm keeping you where you are. You can keep your palace and that lot; I don't want the fuss. You'll need to send a monthly report-- I expect weeklies from the Directors, but that's as much to make sure they do some work as anything-- a monthly should be sufficient."

"Wait, you want us on the Shinra board?" Yuffie almost falls out of her chair.

"No, that'd be absurd. You just need to make similar reports."

"And what if we dont?" Godo puffs out his chest.

"Then I slaughter your family and take what is mine." Rufus shrugs. He reaches across the table, uninvited, and pours himself a glass of wine from the most expensive-looking bottle.

But the joke's on him. Godo has selected the crappiest wine he could find, then swapped the labels. Godo pours himself and Yuffie glasses from the other bottle, winking at her.

Rufus takes a drink. "It's easier for all of us if we keep you where you are. Better for local morale to see a familiar face in the palace."

The bodyguard lifts his glass of water, though his lips are pressed tight together.

"Could do without squabbles over the rule," says Rufus. "People accept it; they're used to it. No need for a fight." Rufus puts his glass down. "We'll cover the details later, but that's the long and short of it. Now, I want food. Let's eat. Oh, and swap bottles with me, Godo. This wine is abysmal."

*

The food is served. They have to provide the ceremonial meal, though they've timed the meeting so that it's the lightest affair possible, and with any luck the President will finish hungry. Yuffie and Godo made sure to eat some snacks before they arrived at the palace.

Now, Yuffie picks up her cup of broth with both hands, angling it so that the handle extends outward, away from her face. Godo does the same. They each have a small ceramic bowl in front of them, hand-painted with blossoms. They tilt their cups forward, so that the liquid flows along the handles, then splashes down into the bowls. The broth is just the start; they've carefully selected food that requires the most convoluted ceremony to consume. She normally thinks the etiquette's a hassle, but now she's enjoying the ritual with the suspicion that the President won't have a clue what to do. Sure enough, he turns to his bodyguard. And that traitor Turk picks his cup up, t-- _holy crap, __**what**__?!_

He's picked it up _by_ the handle.

She stares, agog.

"Is something the matter?" The Turk looks at her.

"You're just gonna grab it by the handle?!" She abandons all decorum. "Jeez, how the hell were you _raised_?"

"It's what it's for," says the Turk-- and he_ drinks straight from the cup_.

"It's _symbolic_!" howls Yuffie. "The river over the mountains!"

"It's a cup," says the Turk.

"Oh my gawd!"

"Now, now, my daughter," says Godo, but he leaves it at that.

The president takes his cue from his vulgar bodyguard. Godo and Yuffie stare at each other, aghast.

*

The food is finished. The handful of (fantastically second-rate) musicians troop in, detuned strings at the ready, a servant ignites the pot of bargain-bucket incense, the lights are dimmed to the point where it's difficult to see, and the pot of lukewarm tea is brought to the table. No sooner has the first musician plucked the first string, than Rufus stands. He points at the incense. "That stuff's making my eyes water. We'll continue this outside."

Yuffie's been told off for her manners more times than anyone can count, but even she's shocked. It's _so_ rude. The guest does not dictate the venue, and _during_ the tea-- she's speechless. Godo stares, open-mouthed. Even the bodyguard blinks, though he looks amused. The royal guard look scandalised. _Centuries_ of custom...

But that's Shinra for you.

They can't understand. They weren't raised to rule. It's a thousand little things, picked up over the years, that nobodies like them just stomp all over without even noticing. They think the ritual is stupid because they don't see how it connects them to the past, because they don't _have_ any past. Yuffie used to think it was stupid, and it still frustrates her-- but in a room like this, with these men, she understands it better and she feels fierce, painful pride in _knowing_ it, in her bones. Some of it's nostalgia, but it's also a feeling that she has _standards_.

"We'll show you your quarters," says Godo, striding to the front. In the doorway, he has to push past the Shinra party; they're walking ahead even though they don't know where they're going.

They step outside, Yuffie's blood boiling. Even the landscape pisses her off. This is a country of low green hills; there are lambs in the distance-- and a lake, as one might expect from a place with 'Lake' in the name. Boring boring boring. Nothing to do. It's a cool, clear spring day; the breeze is extra cold; her ceremonial silk is designed to be worn indoors. They had _planned_ to finish at midday, when the sun would be highest, but Rufus has rushed them ahead of schedule. She curls her hands into fists, and pulls them up inside the oversized sleeves. It's still the most padded of the ceremonial outfits. She picked the garb normally reserved for declarations of war. She knew the symbolism would not be lost on her people.

Though she's not sure if these locals _are_ her people. As they make their way along the sandy path downhill, she hears whispers of 'Kisaragi' and 'Shinra', and both are spoken with the same distaste.

She wishes they could walk faster, but her robe has a long train; they've hired a local woman to carry it. The woman is slower than a tonberry in a tray of treacle; Yuffie has to shuffle accordingly.

Suddenly, she's jerked back.

"What the hell?!" Yuffie whips around, narrowly avoiding falling flat on her face.

"Sorry," the old woman grins from ear to ear, teeth black. "Bad leg."

Yuffie scowls, takes two more steps-- and the old woman yanks her back again.

"Deary me," she says.

"Fine, you old hag! I'll carry the damn thing myself!" Yuffie abandons decorum for a second time, and grabs the train, wrapping it round her body and hoisting it up in front of her. The old woman nods, slowly, still grinning, and turns away.

"Wait a minute," says Rufus' bodyguard. Yuffie wonders if he's going to teach the old woman a lesson-- the Turks did help her out once before-- but instead, he hands the hag some coins. "For your service."

She shuffles off, cackling.

"Generous," says Rufus.

The bodyguard shrugs. "She made me laugh."

*

Godo leads them to the Artisans' estate, once home to the Family tasked with designing all whatever. Descended from Shiva, according to the legends. Yeah, right. Super cool human-summon-people? If only. No chance of anything interesting in Black Lake. Plus Yuffie knows from the analogue in the capital that none of the _cool_ artists lived in these quarters; this lot were commissioned by the chief Family, so it'll all have been woodblocks and calligraphy, boring boring extra boring with bells on. She vaguely remembers there's some sort of special Black Lake historical water feature _thing_, but she recalls none of it; she never paid much attention in class and the capital has better art anyway.

They pass through the gate of the main estate. The president stops to creak it. "How old's this, then?"

Yuffie shrugs. Even if she did know, she wouldn't tell him. They enter the courtyard, with a tall elm tree in the middle. The bodyguard gives it a pat as they pass; she almost throws up. She wants to scream, "Get your hands OFF! It's not YOURS!"

But screaming is Not Done, and today she is making a point of knowing what Is and Is Not Done, so all she _can_ do is give the elm tree an apologetic pat of her own. The Turk notices, and his eyes narrow. But he can't stop to say something stupid; he has to walk faster, to catch up to his darling president.

They walk around to the back of the main estate. The facades of these buildings are just for show; the doors are at the back; it's considered rude here to enter one's house in front of neighbours. The place is massive; it takes them ten minutes longer to walk than if the doors were at the front. And she keeps dropping the train and stumbling on it.

_Stupid place._

Yuffie has been in Black Lake for less than half a day and she is _so_ over it.

The rear garden opens out onto the valley. They can see for miles. She's annoyed, now; if she'd known it was this nice, she would have stopped Rufus from staying here; no way should he get this view. Godo looks similarly uncomfortable. She can smell blossom. Far out to the horizon stretch the grasses, woods, and what used to be farmlands. There's even a _stream_, for godsakes.

"Space for another Midgar," says Rufus, sounding surprised and impressed.

Yuffie tenses. If Shinra _did_ want to build, what could Wutai do? She and her father are already serving their enemy _tea_!

"Is this all the same estate?" says the bodyguard, staring out into the hills.

"Yeah," says Yuffie.

The bodyguard swears.

*

They enter the main room. Rufus looks like he's not paying much attention to the decor; it's fancy but it's less fancy than the palace, and he's already seen that. The bodyguard looks like he has a stomach ache.

Rufus picks up a glass ornament and tosses it from hand to hand. "I assume you gift this lot around. My old man always had a few places on the go for that. Who lives here?"

"Some petty warlord," says the bodyguard.

Yuffie glares at him. "General Inoue was a great man."

"Never heard of him." The Turk's gaze lingers on the carved walls and the golden inlay; Yuffie can see him totting up the gil in his head.

Rufus wanders across the room, and points at a mechanical contraption. "What in the world is that?"

"I dunno," says Yuffie.

Godo shrugs.

"It's a pantograph," says the bodyguard, irritably, back turned. He's looking out of the window, across the fields. "You use it to enlarge sculptures. That's how they made the Three Dragons." He turns to Rufus, ignoring Yuffie and Godo. "That one's quite famous; the Kisaragis sold most of their loot to be melted down for Dio's statue, but they were kind enough to keep that one on display, and now we all get to see it in their local bar." He bows at Yuffie. "I'm surprised you didn't know." He doesn't sound remotely surprised. "But I suppose Kisaragis are new money."

"Hey!" says Yuffie.


End file.
